In this fairytale inspired by a classic children’s story, weaver’s daughter Adrien is tired of turning down marriage proposals. So she disguises herself as a boy and sets out on a journey of discovery, accompanied only by her faithful piglet Ferkel. Rescuing a young monk named Felix from brigands, Adrien agrees to act as bodyguard on his journey to the King’s castle to present the princess with a telescope.

The lovely Princess Selene has also had more than her fair share of suitors, but she refuses to marry until someone gives her the moon. Felix’s telescope could grant her heart’s desire, but it’s Adrien who finds herself in love with the lively, beautiful princess.

Astonished to find Selene loves her in return, Adrien’s joy is short-lived. Surely Selene’s love will die when Adrien reveals her true gender? And in any case, two women cannot be married -- can they?

EXCERPT:Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

Adrien wondered, next day, if she should disclose her true sex, but she decided against it. “They cannot force me to wed the lady,” she told Ferkel as she prepared for her audience. “So I came here as a man, and I’ll leave here as one too.”

She stood proudly, telescope in hand, as the major-domo announced, “Master Adrien Weaver,” and then she walked into the throne room with her head held high. And there she stood stock still, suddenly tongue-tied, for the princess who sat at the king’s side was like no creature Adrien had ever seen before.

Her skin was the colour of the toffee that coated the children’s apples at the autumn festivals, and her hair blacker than the darkest winter’s night. Her neck was long and graceful like a swan’s, and her hands slender and well-formed. Her feet played like kittens under the hem of her rich gown, and her waist was so tiny Adrien would have sworn she could span it with her own clumsy hands.

The graceful princess wore a velvet gown of deep crimson that clung to her shapely figure like a lover. Adrien blushed to think of this, and all of a sudden felt drab and plain in her father’s clothes. At once, she knew why men would go to ridiculous lengths to please the princess; for no sooner had she set eyes upon the lady than Adrien knew that she too would travel to the ends of the earth to bring back whatever her Highness might desire.

“Well, man? Speak!” the king commanded in a voice that spoke of too much rich food that disturbed his slumbers and too little success in swaying his wilful daughter.

Adrien collected her scattered thoughts and spoke with barely a tremor in her voice. “Sire, I bring for your daughter a marvellous instrument. It will make the moon appear so close she might reach out and touch it.”

The princess rose to her feet and with dainty steps approached Adrien, who remembered to bow low before her. She was a head shorter than Adrien and looked up from underneath thick black lashes with eyes as deep as forest pools.

“Good sir,” she said, in a voice so like the song of the nightingale that Adrien could scarce discern her words, so full of wonder was she at its sound. “I would see this wondrous instrument of yours.” And here the princess gave a teasing smile that only Adrien could see, and Adrien felt she had never blushed so much in all her life, she who had always prided herself on being so calm and sensible. “But it will not be dark again before tonight,” the princess continued, “and so there is no moon yet to see. Will you come to my tower this evening to show me this wonder?”